


Just Hormones, Right?

by xx1onedirection1xx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Harry Styles - Freeform, M/M, Narry - Freeform, Niall Horan - Freeform, larry - Freeform, narry storan - Freeform, ziall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 02:39:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xx1onedirection1xx/pseuds/xx1onedirection1xx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry was confused and felt pretty<br/>and he wanted to kiss Niall</p><p>(or: Harry and Niall are at an interview and Harry felt things for that little blonde idiot, but without knowing things first)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Hormones, Right?

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: this took me like only 30 or less minutes  
> so beware of an overdose of "ands"  
> and angst  
> and fluff at the end  
> but its Harry freakin Styles  
> so you should know that there's gonna be angst and awkwardness  
> so yeah  
> bye  
> and i hope you don't hunt m,e down and kill me for how sucky this is  
> (TRUST ME I CAN DO BETTER THAN THIS)

 

 

The trees blew softly in the steady wind outside, the sun burrowing in the sky. They zoomed by the greenest grass, looking plush and so real and healthy. Harry had his window down, and he stuck his face out,

and just enjoyed it all. The air smelled like freshly-cut grass and it was humid, but not humid enough to be suffocating or cause annoyance. It was just right. And it was a very pretty day outside. So pretty, in fact,

that it put him in a very pretty mood. And he doesn't get in that mood often, really, except when he's with Louis or thinks about him. And he's not thinking about him now, so. Well.

And he could feel Niall in the seat next to him, and he could tell Niall was smiling. Niall was always smiling, really. But Harry felt something. In his chest. And well, that was new, because it felt pretty, more than

before. And well, yeah. Harry was just.. yeah.

  
And for some reason, he reached her hand over and laid it upon Nialls'. And it felt warm, and safe, and Harry was freaking out inside. What is he doing? God, what is he-

There was chuckling. "Harry, mate, you 'lright?" Niall removed his hand from under Harry's.

"Yeah," Harry stuttered out, "Yeah I'm good. I'm okay. Right?" He looked over to Niall, but the blonde boy only shook his head slowly, grinning a little as he turned to look back out the window. "You're such a Harry, Harry. Really."

Harry didn't really know what that meant. But the boys said it all the time. So it can't be bad.

Right?  
  


* * *

 

  
So Harry's kinda worried right now. They're currently in an interview, in an auditorium somewhere, and its just the two of them. And Harry can't stop glancing. How did Harry never notice his blonde streaks and

how bright they were before? And how his teeth were so white, and he smiled so damn much it made Harry's stomach feel queasy.

And his hands were clammy and his heart was pounding against his veins and he couldn't stop fidgeting and glancing at that damned boy. That stupid, naive boy who couldn't tell that Harry was full-on staring at him now, just gazing and he wonders if his thoughts were shining through his eyes.

And this all feels so familiar.

And suddenly, they were taking a break, and were told to come back in a short while.

Well good for the break. Harry' gonna

vomit or cry or sob uncontrollably or vomit up tears or hit his fist against the wall or

maybe all of the above. 

Yeah. That sounds good.

He's already running down the hall, in a full-out sprint, and he's always locking the door as he hears Niall yell "Har-"

And he sunk to the floor.

Because he knows now, he really knows.

It all feels familiar. Because he's felt like this with only one other person before.

And his phone rings.

"Hello? Harry, you okay?"

Of course.

He rest his head in his shaking hands, as the sweat drips down his neck.

And yeah, the voice is comforting, but not really. Not as much as others, and that's why he's so confused and hormonal and everything. And. Yeah. So Harry can't handle this right now.

"Niall," he starts honestly, "I can't handle this right now."

But Niall's so cute and nice and caring.

And yeah, Louis' been a little hostile lately.

But does that mean he can just go love somebody else? Without his boyfriend's permission?

And he knows that Niall can tell that Harry needs someone right now. That something isn't right. "Harry," His voice is smooth, like walking through water, and how it clings to your skin and there's no friction and it all feels so right, "Harry."

And he just keeps saying that. Just Harry's name. And weirdly, it makes him feel good. Okay, it makes him feel okay. And pretty.

And then he feels like crying again.

And he starts to.

But then, Niall can't speak, other than saying as another produce yells through the door to go back, "Harry, come back o-"

And Harry thinks he can't do this.

 

* * *

  
  
Turns out he can.

And it only lasts ten minutes more.

And then they leave building.

And its all hanging on.

But Harry didn't know, it was only hanging on by a thread.

And they walk on that cement, about twenty feet from the car, and its really really late, and his blond hair is still glowing. Its insane. But lovely. Oh very lovely.

And they're talking, and laughing, and Harry feels pretty again.

And pretty enough to do something about it.

And he doesn't know it. He doesn't know how it happened, or who leaned in first, but something happened, and it felt..  
Good.

okay.

Fine.

And Niall's good at kissing.

And Niall's pretty and lovely and cute and nice.

And Louis is too, albeit feisty at times, but yeah.

Their kiss is okay.

And Harry's leaning back out before it goes too far (not like it would have, but oh well).

And Niall just kinda swallowed, and Harry kinda stumbled back, and they were facing eachother.

And Niall turned and just kept walking.

And Harry just stood there.

"Niall," Harry whined, "Niall. Niall."

And he just kept saying his name. And tried to sound soothing.

That's when Niall whipped around, and his face was flushed. "Harry, it just wasn't.. I.."

And though it pained Harry to say it, he did anyway. "I know, Niall." His voice was hushed.

"What if someone would have saw us? What if Louis saw a picture or something? Oh god, Z-"

And Niall shut his mouth. His face was ashen.

"Niall.." Harry's voice crept up to be heard.

"Its not what.." Niall's voice cracked.

Harry really messed up this time.

"Niall, I'm so sorry, but.. you're... you and Zayn?"

"Harry."

"Niall." He wasn't even mad. He was just confused (he's been through hell with this whole "not knowing things" ordeal). And this blonde kid was blushing really bad, and from afar Harry just knew.  
"How long have you been, you know, like you and him?" Harry continued, asking with a low, soft voice. He didn't want Niall to overreact.

It took Niall awhile. But he did say it.

And suddenly, Harry was walking fast forward to meet Niall's open arms, and they were crying. Tears were pouring out of their eyes, and it felt like they never even kissed. Like it never even happened. And this is so weird, and he thought it would be weird but only in a different way.  
But they were okay.

And Zayn and Niall had been going out just a long as Harry and Louis had.

And they loved eachother as much, too.

And they never admitted it before. They were just too scared.

But they had eachother, Niall said on the car ride home as midnight rolled past, and they were alone but when they were together it was all so damn fine. They were okay because of each other. And it was simple. And that's all they had, and that's all they needed. They make eachother something.

And Harry said sorry, sorry for the kiss and making all that happen, but Niall just turned to him and said, "Harry, its okay. Just hormones and all that shit, right?"

And Harry was confident. for the first time that day. "Right."

And he felt pretty, but only because he was thinking about Louis. 

That's how he wanted it to be.


End file.
